


Richocet

by Rabid1st



Category: Doctor Who (2005)
Genre: F/M
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2017-05-17
Updated: 2017-05-17
Packaged: 2018-11-01 18:19:07
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 4,940
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/10927389
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Rabid1st/pseuds/Rabid1st
Summary: The Doctor is having some issues starting something with Rose.Warning for my usual weird sexuality of the Time Lord.





	Richocet

RICOCHET  
By Rabid1st  
Rating: M+  
Doctor Who – S1  
Rose/Nine...and Jack as matchmaker.  
Spoilers: Boom Town  
Beta Babes: ThisFickleMob, Aibhinn, The Devil Bunny and Jei  
Summary: Rose didn’t need her passport…she needed something else entirely from Mickey…unfortunately, he didn’t get the job done.  
Disclaimer: I am not RTD and I don’t even play him on TV…so I have no rights at all to these copyrighted characters. Still, my motives are as pure as any smut writer’s motives can be. So please don’t sue me.

 

“It’s got spines,” Rose Tyler said in a hushed aside, “all over.” 

“They’re flexible,” her companion, Jack Harkness replied, also using a lowered voice. “Unless she gets angry. And believe me when I tell you,” he said, leaning closer to Rose, while remaining fixated on his new friend at the bar, “Nothing I’m going to do to her will make her angry.”

A blush stained Rose’s cheeks as her glazed eyes struggled to focus on the alien Jack was finding so interesting. The air was smoky and her vision seemed unnaturally blurry. She blinked down at her half-full glass, wondering if two was one too many of the local brew. 

“Don't tell me, you're going to--I mean--you can’t possibly…” She wafted her hand at him, nearly overturning her drink. Oh, yes. She was definitely buzzed. “I mean, half the fun is...buh..."

"Half?"

"If you can’t even get close to her.” Her nose wrinkled in a way that made her mouth seem imminently kissable. “It is a her, isn’t it?”

“Oh, she’s a her all right,” Jack said. “Not that I would mind either way. But you can tell by the coloring. The males have bright orange crests.”

“Well, hers is definitely yellow. Do you think she has a male friend?” 

As she posed the question, the pouting Rose slumped into Jack, giving him a perfect line of sight down her blouse. There were the lacy cups and the swelling bosom. He took a sudden interest in his drink, studying the swirling colors before taking a deep swallow. Despite his natural inclination to shag her sideways, he was trying his level best not to notice Rose’s cleavage or her oh-so-kissable lips. He certainly didn’t want to think about how soft she was against his arm. Yielding. Sweet. Available. Nope. He wasn't going to think about how much fun they might have in an alien four-way. He caught himself before his gaze drifted any lower. She had great legs, too. Back to the drink and its pretty colors. Thinking about Rose in bed would only get him into trouble. 

They were a long way off the more traveled space lanes. The last thing Jack wanted was to lose his ride back to civilization. He could be stuck here for years. Before this intoxicating evening had even begun, he’d been warned off Rose. He’d promised the Doctor he wouldn’t think of her lips or her cleavage or her lusciously curved backside bouncing under him. Oh, that backside. 

Jack gave his head a sharp shake and let the earlier conversation come back to him. 

*********************************************************

“She’s a nun,” the Doctor had insisted by way of making his point as they waited for Rose to change. 

“Really?” Jack exclaimed, perking up at the mental image the sentence invoked. Naughty nuns could be fun. All that repression and female companionship.

The Doctor rolled his eyes in his patented long-suffering way and sighed heavily before clarifying his terms. “A holy woman? A Shakrilla? The Divine Sisters of Retribution? Any of this ringing a bell?”

“I knew a holy woman once,” Jack mused. “She could tuck her feet behind her head. Every so often she would go into this trance that let her…”

“Let’s make it…your sister. Treat her like she’s family.”

“If she was my sister, I’d have found her a good lay a long time ago. Someone suitable, you understand…not just any miss or mister.”

“No," the Doctor said sharply, as if he were disciplining a dog. "The answer is no. The answer will always be no. We aren’t even going to consider the question. Rose has no sexuality to speak of. She’s verboten…underage…off limits…radioactive. Do I make myself clear?’

“So, you’re saying I should wear some sort of protective suit?” Jack surmised, only half-teasing.

The Doctor’s blue gaze turned flinty as he leaned across the console and, in a very cold voice, said, “I’m saying you stand to lose your manly parts in a freak temporal accident. You might never perform again.” Meeting his steely stare, Jack swallowed hard and nodded. After holding Jack's gaze a moment longer, the Doctor smiled ear-to-ear, straightened and cheerfully added, “But other than that, have a lovely time.”

Jack took a bit of a break from the conversation to lower his heart-rate and digest the threat. Once he could sidle around the mental image of his parts shriveling up, he felt confident enough to circle back to the start of their discussion. 

“Fine. So, it won’t be me. I’m okay with that. But it’s going to be someone. Is she radioactive for you? You’ve got…parts.” He gestured vaguely at the Doctor’s trouser front. “At least, I assume you do. All I’m saying is we can’t just leave her like this…unfulfilled. She's sending out an engraved invitation to anyone with a nose for easy…” The Doctor cleared his throat and Jack smoothly shifted into another gear. “My mother raised me better than this…it’s improper…indecent. Rose needs…”

“Say ‘servicing’ again and I’ll biff you,” the Doctor warned, brandishing a spanner.

“Call it what you like. Semantics isn’t what we should be worried about,” Jack said, touching the fingertips of one hand to his chest. “I’ve got her best interest at heart. But Rose has a mind of her own. And she’s not underage…or a nun…or anybody’s sister. Look what happened in Cardiff. We let her down. So she called in reinforcements. And it looks to me like that boyfriend of hers didn’t get the job done. Right now, she’s a loaded gun.” He cocked his head. “No. Scratch that,” he said, leveling a stern finger at the Doctor, “She’s a stray bullet. And somebody is going to get hurt unless you step up and take one for the team.”

Before the Doctor could reply to this metaphor-laced speech, the inner door opened and Rose entered the room. Both men glanced toward her and immediately forgot all about their argument. They forgot about almost everything but Rose. She looked like trouble waiting to happen. Her lips were a soft, glossy pink. Her eyes were heavily shadowed. Her long, pale legs were bare. She wore high-heeled sandals, a silvery skirt and a mesh halter-top. A tiny silver purse and a lacy shawl completed the ensemble. The clothing moved with her, revealing enticing amounts of silken skin but never quite surrendering all modesty. It was the kind of outfit that begged to be stripped off slowly, piece by piece. 

“Are we ready?” she asked, giving both men her most dazzling smile. 

“Absolutely,” Jack said, rushing forward to hook his arm through the crook of hers. “Doctor, don’t wait up.”

Rose stopped in her tracks, jerking Jack around. “Aren’t you coming?” she asked the Doctor, a tiny frown marring her painted perfection.

He waved his spanner in a careless arc. “I’ve got tinkering to do. You run along with Jack.” Ignoring the flash of rebellion in her eyes, he went blithely on, “The TARDIS and I could use some quiet time. No children underfoot.”

********************************************************

“I’m not a child,” Rose Tyler muttered, recalling the Doctor’s parting words as she watched Jack and his spiny friend leave the bar. She felt like one, though. Sort of sniffly and forlorn. Like a lost little girl, bereft of any friends. It wasn’t fair. She had no one.

“You certainly aren’t,” a deep voice remarked just to her left. 

Startled, Rose jerked around. She found herself staring into the greenest eyes she’d ever seen. The gaze was so compelling it took her a moment to process the rest of the stranger. For a second she thought he wasn’t even there. He seemed to appear behind his eyes as she blinked. The impossibly green gaze belonged to a very handsome, dark-haired man. He had a long lean body and elegant hands and looked to be in his late twenties. Rose knew enough about aliens to know she couldn’t judge age by appearance. Nor intentions by a pleasant manner, but she was in a public area. It was probably safe enough to let him join her. She swept an arm at the chair Jack had recently vacated, inviting the stranger to sit without actually uttering an invitation. 

“Thank you,” he said, turning the chair so he could straddle the back of it. “Can I buy you a drink?”

Rose looked at her partially full glass. “I’m fine. Maybe later.”

“Do you come here often?”

“Do you have some kind of guidebook with all the dorkiest pick up lines?” Rose giggled, touching his sleeve to show she was kidding. “What’s next? What’s my sign?”

The stranger laughed with her, an oddly rustling sound. “I was going to go with I have a little place right around the corner. We could escape this smoke and noise. Get you a grown-up drink?”

His fingers brushed her hand lightly and Rose felt a numbing tingle race up her arm. A score of warm, melting sensations bloomed low in her belly. She looked into those eyes again. They really were the most compelling....

“Hope, I’m not interrupting anything,” the Doctor said, taking the one remaining seat at their small table and gesturing wildly for the waiter. “I just had to have a pint. Thirsty work, tinkering.”

As the green-eyed stranger turned a hissing glare on the Doctor, Rose got a whiff of rotting meat and jerked her hand into her lap. The fascinating stranger didn’t get up to leave. He simply vanished in a puff of foul-smelling vapor. Rose blinked. She’d expected him to stalk away. He must have. She really was quite tipsy. She frowned downed at her drink again and then looked at the Doctor. 

“What are you doing here?” 

“I told you,” he said cheerfully, “Having a pint. And also rescuing you. You were about three minutes away from the best sexual experience of your life,” he went on, with carefree good humor. Receiving his drink from the waiter, he said, “Ah, just what the Doctor ordered.”

“The best sexual? I was…what?”

The Doctor took a tentative sip and swallowed before answering. “That was a Peluni,” he said, nodding in the direction of the door despite the stranger not having used it. “Your species knows them as Incubi. They’re sexual predators of the strictly predatory kind.”

“He was going to...what?” Rose curled her lip. “Eat me?”

“Oh, no…no,” the Doctor said, again glancing toward the door. Then, he snickered like the geekiest of high school first-years and said, “Well, not in the pretzels and bean dip sense, anyway. No. His intentions were purely honorable. He was going to give you an evening you would remember fondly for the next hundred years.”

“Well…great. Thank you for breaking that up, then.”

“Astounding sexual fulfillment,” the Doctor said, "comes at a price." He took another gulp of his drink before explaining further. “You would, unfortunately, lose all will to escape and spend the next hundred years waiting to be devoured by your mutual offspring.” Snorting at his own cleverness, he confided, “Incubi victims really understand the pain of empty nest syndrome.”

“That’s not funny,” Rose said, before draining her glass. She shivered at thought of her close call. Wanting to forget, she signaled the waiter for another drink. Might as well get drunk. It looked like she was never going to get shagged. The Doctor shook his head at the waiter. “Hey?”

“You’ve had enough. Even if that swill you’re drinking is barely intoxicating.”

“I’ll say when I’ve had enough,” she informed him. She gave the waiter an imperious glare and he rushed to get her a fresh drink. Once she was sure of having her wishes met, she turned on the Doctor. “I am not a child,” she declared, sounding just a little childish.

The Doctor angled in his chair, tipping it back on two legs. His gaze flicked suggestively down her body and then back up to hit her squarely in the eye. “I can tell,” he said softly before letting his chair legs return to a more stable position. “But you’re already drawing the wrong sort of attention.”

“That’s only because Jack left with his spiny friend.”

“Just a matter of time,” the Doctor murmured. 

“Sorry?”

“Nothing. Would you like to go somewhere else? It's the smoke in here that's making you feel wobbly. All sorts of happy toxins in it.”

“Could we go dancing?” she asked, hopefully.

“If you like,” he said with no interest at all. 

The waiter arrived with her drink and she took it, glad to have an excuse to cover her disappointment. This was like an evening out with her granddad. She was already bored.

“Or we could get a room,” the Doctor suggested. “They have rooms upstairs.”

Rose choked on her liquor. Fizzy, sticky fluid leaked out her nose and she had to grab a tissue from her tiny reticule. When she’d recovered a little composure, she sputtered, “Excuse me? You,” she stressed the pronoun as she pointed at him, "want to get a room? As in...get a room?"

“What's so odd about that? As you said, ‘you’re not a child.'" He shrugged, going on in the same colorless tone he'd used to introduce the idea, “We're both consenting adults and you have what I believe are referred to as ‘needs.’ All I'm saying is...I’d be willing to…how does one put this?" He recalled Jack's terminology. "Take one for the team?”

Rose's eyes flashed dangerously. Pain and humiliation hit hard in her solar plexus. Her eyes narrowed slightly, but she gave no further sign of offense. He had his nerve, didn't he? Smug, self-satisfied, Time Lord...offering her a literal bone. She refused to let the burning tears fall. She wouldn’t give him the satisfaction. A tiny muscle jumped in her cheek as she ground her teeth together. How dare he suggest she was in the market for a charity shag?

“Would you?” she hissed, sounding remarkably like the departed Incubus. Gathering her purse and shawl in one hand, she went on snappishly, “Well…as much as I appreciate your willingness to sacrifice yourself, it won’t be necessary. I can get what I need…elsewhere.”

“Now, Rose,” he said, so patiently she wanted to slap him, “That's the ambiance talking. It wouldn't be a sacrifice. Not exactly. Happy to oblige." She was up and moving toward the door before he'd finished sighing. "Rose,” he barked, turning heads. 

The Doctor ignored the stares and sneers cast at him. She was getting away, going to someone else. It hurt just to think of it. Silly, human girl, what did she want from him? He stood to follow her but the waiter barred his way, thrusting a hand out for payment. The Doctor did a quick pat down of his jacket in hopes of locating some local currency. Finding a fistful of bills, he shoved them at the waiter and skirted around the man, ignoring the suggestion that he wait for change. By the time he reached the street, Rose was well along it. He ran after her. Hearing the thud of his booted feet, she glanced over her shoulder and then, to his surprise, shucked her sandals and took off running as well.

Her brilliant laughter carried to him, encouraging him to give chase. It was a childish game but she needed to know he wanted her enough to play it. And he did. It had been a long time since he'd cared this much about anything. At first, he was sure he would catch her but it wasn't long before his confidence waned. He was faster on the straightaway but Rose used the abundant hazards in the streets to her advantage. Like a cat, she darted around carts and corners. She sprang over obstacles designed to hinder his heavier body and cut his longer stride. He had to brake for barrels and bins. She slipped easily between them. He followed her through narrow, twisting alleyways, hoping she wouldn't hurt herself: sprain an ankle or step on some sharp shard. But the streets along the waterfront were remarkably clean, if cluttered, and Rose was amazingly sure of foot. She taunted him from time to time. He occasionally called out to her but mostly he saved his breath for the end of the hunt. 

They reached the blue sand beach and for a while she kept small boats and high tide markers between them. But eventually the soft footing took a toll on her. She didn't have his respiratory capacity. When they left civilization behind, he closed the gap on her. She had nowhere to hide on the open beach. He caught her before she could think to double back. As she scrambled up the sloping rocks of a jetty he seized her waist with both hands, pulling her down into him. Her skin was slick and hot from the long exertion. His hands slipped when she squirmed, one of them sliding all the way under her blouse and up the curve of her bare breast.

She stiffened at the intimate touch but didn't fight it. Her back was to him as he held her off the ground. They didn’t speak. There seemed to be no need. She'd wanted him to follow her, prove himself. He had. Her hair fluttered into his face, into his mouth. He could smell her desire, fresh in her perspiration and wet on the skin of her inner thighs. The frantic pulse of her heartbeat drummed in counterpoint to his. Her nipple tightened under his fingers. He moved his fingertips in a tentative circle, gently tracing over the puckering peak. Rose groaned and arched, bridging across his chest. She was more than ready, her muscles loosened by the run. 

He let her down. Her body skimmed his until her bare feet hit sand. Then, he turned her around in his arms as if they were dancing and dipped her back, all the way to the ground. She seemed to have given up the fight. Gulping in air, she lay on the blue sand, stark and pale and silvery, beautiful as some stranded mermaid. She watched him with a dark unfathomable gaze as he removed his jacket and shirt. He cast each piece of clothing aside. Her eyes never wavered. She was making him nervous. The small, knowing smile on her lips told him that was her intention. He supposed he deserved her challenging appraisal after his attitude in the bar. He had no excuse, other than that there were no words in her language to adequately express his feelings.

Silently, he dropped to his knees between her open legs and used his thighs to nudge hers further apart. Then, looming over her, he cupped a hand under her neck and, cradling her head, lifted her up into a kiss. She was malleable now, molding to him as he covered her body with his. Her mouth yielded all its secrets to his tongue. He couldn’t believe how easy this was. He was losing himself in her, like she was London fog. The known world faded. His blood stirred as his constant craving for the unknown took over. He couldn’t stop. Not when there were undiscovered worlds to explore. He kissed his way down her throat, tarrying over her butterfly pulse. 

Rose forgot to breathe for a second or two when the Doctor's weight settled on top of her. She'd planned to reject him but somewhere between the bar and the beach she'd come to understand him better. What she wanted seemed very clear to her now. She began to respond to him, ravenously. It felt like they were meant for one another and had only been waiting for this chance to prove it. He licked, bit and sucked gently on her neck, inspiring a delicious shivering to race up her arms and down to her toes. Her hands, needing something to do, fluttered along his arms, his back and his chest, never stilling. They followed the curve of his spine. She traced his shoulder blades. His skin felt impossibly smooth between his puckered battlescars. 

When he reached the valley between her breasts, her hands found purpose. Leaving him for a moment, they unclasp the hooks holding her top around her neck. The mesh material spilled out of his way. He looked up as his lips toyed with her aching nipple but she couldn’t bear to hold his gaze. A thousand arrows seemed to pierce her heart, not all at once but one after the other. Her lashes drooped, veiling her view of him as her nails cut into his flesh. Blindly, she held on when he started suckling eagerly. The pulling sensation had her clenching and throbbing inside. She made a noise in the back of her throat, a sort of mewling gasp. 

The Doctor couldn’t help smiling just a little at the delightful sound, couldn’t contain his devilish urge to make her cry out again. She burbled and moaned. But he wanted her to scream, call his name. He shifted his weight to the side and let his palm graze her inner thigh. She splayed her legs even further, frantically yanking him back to her mouth for a heated kiss. Their tongues danced a samba, while his fingers climbed to the apex of her thigh. The tiny thong she was wearing offered no obstacle at all. He knuckled it aside. At her core, she was so very hot and slippery like melted candle wax. Longing to make an impression, he pressed his fingers into her. She took all he gave and finally called him home. 

She said his name, choked on it, really. “Doc-Doctor?”

“Rose,” he breathed, against her skin. Happy in his victory, he slithered down to where she had a pulsing grip on his fingers. 

He was kissing her intimately, licking and nuzzling. Thrusting into her like…like a man, Rose thought. She needed a man. She clawed him closer, hooking a leg around him. If only he would…if only he could…

He found the pearl at the heart of her petal soft folds and claimed it for the Time Lords. She shrieked then, bucking wildly, losing her grasp on him and on any sense of propriety she’d retained. He pressed his free palm into her hip to hold her steady while she rocked her spongy heat against his mouth and squeezed his fingers. Her coming tasted like the sea. How had he managed to resist her for so long?

No more, he thought. And then because it sounded so good in his head, he said it aloud, “No more.”

“Wha…what?” she gasped, trying to focus on him as he pushed to his knees again. He drew his fingers from her. “Don’t…go...” There was a trace of panic in her eyes at the thought of his leaving her. 

“Waiting,” he clarified. "No more waiting."

"Good! Yeah!" She mouthed his words back at him. *No more waiting.* 

He unzipped his trousers with Rose-slicked fingers, loosing his own mad desire. Still kneeling, he took Rose under her arms and drew her up into him, impaling her as, feet slipping in the loose sand, she straddled his hips. His penetration was sudden, if not completely unexpected, and there was a definite element of surprise. He had the advantage of knowing it was possible for a human female to take him. She did not. As she came to grips with his measure, the essential alien form and where it was going, her back arched. Feet scrambling for purchase, she shoved up and away from him. Her mouth gaped as her hands braced against his bare shoulders. She stopped well short of taking him completely and called on her god. 

‘Oh, God,’ Rose thought, ‘He’s inside. And not…human. So full of him. He’s so…I can’t do this…I…oh…God.’

Happily, the Doctor seemed content to let her dictate the pace. He waited for her to come back to him. He had no doubt she would. She'd wrapped her arms around his neck, desperately holding on, holding herself away from the awful certainty of their union. But she wanted to let go. He understood. She could feel the calming waves of his understanding washing over her. He would never hurt her. It wasn’t going to hurt. His hands skated down her spine, and then under her skirt to cup her bottom. Very slowly, he shifted her angle to accommodate their differences. She took the hint and shimmied, circling her hips. 

The Doctor groaned. Her slick clenching wasn’t what his kind was used to but it was certainly delightful. His head dropped back, exposing his throat to her. Relaxing enough to take a bit more of him into her heat, Rose dipped her mouth to his shoulder and then licked from his collarbone to his chin. 

“Oh, yes,” he sighed, perfectly content. "Definitely...not a sacrifice."

Smiling triumphantly, she kissed him, pulling away with a loud smacking noise. She was laughing at him, with him. He opened his eyes and caught her gaze, holding it. His blue eyes were silver mirrors for the starlight. Rose pressed closer. They were chest to chest, nose to nose. Very carefully, panting as she did, she eased all the way down his length. Her eyes widened when they were one. She couldn’t believe she’d made it. Locked together, still staring into one another, they rocked back and forth. He didn’t thrust so much as swivel but he really couldn’t help hitting the right spot and she popped again, yelping and shuddering. The violence of the climax scared her, blunting her pleasure at first, but she felt wonderful after and gave up on being frightened. Time enough to regret this tomorrow, she reckoned.

As the night wore on they removed the rest of their clothing, going down on each other in the sand and then later in the water. They let the sea wash them clean. And then, got dirty again. They went deep into each other, mentally and physically. They found loads of delightful things in common. Rose came hard and often but the Doctor only had one orgasm. She was above him, riding him, when it hit. He came with the force of a cresting wave. It curled over them as it pulled them both under. They quaked with it, clinging as they trembled helplessly. His climax left them both drenched in sweat and gasping. And the afterglow left Rose completely dazed. 

“Narcotic semen,” he told her between deep cleansing breaths, “Bit of a trip?” She nodded absently and spilled into the crook of his arm to watch the stars turn into birds as they wheeled colorfully overhead. 

The twin suns were rising before they dusted the beach from their clothes and made their staggering way back to the TARDIS. 

As the Doctor keyed open the door, Jack’s voice rang out. “There you are, at last. Thank the Divine Light. Rose is missing and…” He broke off mid-sentence as he took in Rose and her disheveled appearance. A sly smile touched his lips but he still declared, “Where have you two been? Do you have any idea what time it is?”

“No, I don’t,” the Doctor said, casting a playful glance at his glowing companion. “And me a Time Lord, too.” 

Rose grinned back at him. Leaning drunkenly on his arm, she lazily mouthed, “But the world is definitely moving. I can feel it spinning beneath my feet.” 

The reference to one of her earliest conversations with the Doctor was lost on Jack but he grinned, as well, happy to see her happy. “Glad to hear the earth moved for someone.” 

Rose transferred a measure of her affections to Jack, hugging his arm, too, and pouting prettily. “Did your spiny lady turn prickly?” 

“No, but her mate showed up with a real barb on his shoulder and, well, one thing led to another until I ended up flat on my back with my nose on...” he stopped talking and sniffed delicately. Then, he raised a questioning brow at the Doctor. “But enough about me. Something tells me someone else got very lucky last night.”

Before the bristling Doctor could take exception to this artless remark, Rose pushed away from them both. Pivoting on her sandy toes, she lightly punched Jack in the bicep. 

“I’ll say!” She crowed, cockily. Then, with a happy grin plastered on her face, she stumbled for the inner door. As she opened it, she called over her shoulder, “One of us had to do something, yeah? He was getting kind of crotchety. So I figured I’d better step up and…” She tossed a final saucy look at both of them. “Take one for the team, yeah?”

As the door closed firmly behind her, Jack pursed his lips and made a noise like a ricocheting bullet. 

“Couldn’t have put it better myself,” the Doctor said, flipping the series of switched that would set them underway.

 

THE END


End file.
